


Fevers and Daydreams

by lunalightmidnight



Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe - Real World, F/M, Graphic Description, Slow Burn, Uchiha Itachi Has Issues, Uchiha Itachi Lives
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-19
Updated: 2020-05-18
Packaged: 2021-03-02 04:22:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 13,215
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23729008
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lunalightmidnight/pseuds/lunalightmidnight
Summary: Planning for the future was always important to Rhiannon. She just didn’t  plan for this disruption. Now she has to work with or around it.
Relationships: Uchiha Itachi/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 26





	1. How to Make a Bad Day Worse

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Beta: RoseHarmony

Chapter 1: The End of Typicality

I don’t typically tend to enjoy surprises. Doesn’t matter the kind--in my experience most surprises would have been better as planned events. 

I screamed when I saw him. A half dead man covered in blood, propped up against the cabinets below my sink. He was filthy: long dark hair mixed with dirt, blood, and grease. His left arm was bruised, the right had some sort of electric burn and both had some mixture of blood, dirt, and scrapes covering them. His face looked the least damaged but even then, he had blood leaking out of one eye and mouth down his chin. 

I hadn’t seen any evidence of a break in, nor any of the man moving himself more than a few feet before falling. The only way I could see someone getting in is if they had a key--which would have to make this a prank. My brother liked playing pranks on me, but this was a little extreme. Plus he was two states away as far as I knew. If he had really set this up I applaud the special effects artist he hired.

It was the smell that made me think that this might not be a prank. Between the smell of burnt flesh and blood, I was starting to get nauseous. I didn’t think that a makeup artist could replicate that. Uselessly I stood staring down at him from the front entryway. Like most people, I have never been confronted by a strange, blood covered, man passed out on my kitchen floor. 

This  _ had _ to be a prank. If it wasn’t, there would be a lot more questions and issues that came with this. Like who did this to him? Are they still in the area? Am I now in danger? Was this some mafia thing? Or was he an unlucky undercover bodyguard? As I looked at him more closely I also noticed that the man was in armor covered in loose black clothing with a--oh God, that’s a Naruto headband. Why the hell was this man in detailed Itachi cosplay? 

Fuck, this just had to be a prank, and I didn’t really have time to spend cleaning this up. I just got home from work. Would I have to pay him when he jumped up and stopped pretending to... maybe if I snuck around him, I could heat up dinner and mindlessly watch TV for an hour. 

How the hell he even got in my apartment if this wasn’t a prank floated through my head again. I mean, I’d been keeping my windows and doors locked since there had been some break-ins at my complex lately but there weren't any signs of that particular crime occurring here at all. I brushed it off and approached him with caution. Frowning, I gave him another lookover, trying to ascertain if these were real injuries or some guy about to spring up and go “Beh!” 

It was one of the best Itachi cosplays I had seen. The attire and makeup was ridiculously accurate, not to mention the fake (?) injuries. My twelve year old self would have had a seizure. My twenty two year old self was very much tired of all the days horse shit wanted not to be liable for or traumatized by this man’s untimely passing. 

Some blood ran down past his throat to the mesh covered in a dark colored shirt and I nearly gagged. 

_ Ew. Gross. No.  _

Why today? It had been a particularly long day filled with mistakes and irritated peers. I was about a month into this internship, just long enough to mess up due to the newness of it, but long enough to have people expecting everything to be right on the first try. I avoided getting yelled at but the scolding still hurt and put me on edge for the rest of the day. Not that I didn’t deserve it; it was my mistake that set the work back for the day. 

I refocused on the current problem in front of me. Beyond all the other strange things about him, the man’s Naruto headband stood out, even with a large scratch through the metal—it was the quality that threw me off. The metal looked thicker than the ones sold in booths or online; the fabric coarser, made to be more durable than the polyester typically used. 

Clutching my bag to my chest tightly, I shuffled over to him and braced for the worst. Lightly, I nudged him with my foot. He grunted, eyes opening slowly. Whatever jump scare I had been bracing myself for, I didn’t expect this. It started with a light breeze that hit my leg before I saw his arm move so fast it was a blur.

It wasn’t possible to move fast enough to avoid him nor stop the second screech of the day that bubbled out. His knife--and where did that come from?? _ When the hell did he get a knife?!!-- _ stabbed through the floor. Holy shit, that’s an inch and half from my foot! __

I fell back, tripping over my own feet in an attempt to get away from him and whatever other weapons he might have on him. Mid-air I grabbed at my dining room table to steady myself, but only succeeded in pulling it over with me, sending both the table and me to the ground.

A throwing star passed by where my head had been mere seconds ago. If this was some kind of prank gone wrong, I was going to murder my younger sibling the minute I found any evidence that could be linked back to him.

I didn’t even realize the throwing star had grazed me until blood dripped down my scalp through my hair. Panicked, I threw myself to the side before he could launch yet another sharp object at me, and hid behind the table. Not that it provided much cover, as it was about as low quality as one could get. 

A few seconds later, I heard a large thump against the ground. It seemed like the second that his adrenaline rush had finished its course, he had passed out again. Unless he was trying to trick me into stepping back out, only to be impaled by whatever else he had on him. Well,  _ fuck.  _

I peeked out from behind the table, and saw that the man had collapsed face down on the floor. His chest was still moving-- _so_ _he’s not dead. But he could be faking unconsciousness._

My eyes darted around the room, searching for something to help me deal with this situation. My eyes locked on my broom...that could work: I could use that as a way to determine if he was really unconscious, and/or disarm him. No way in hell was I getting close to  _ that mess _ again until he was unarmed. 

But it’s not like leaving the cover of the table to disarm him myself was a great idea. However the broom was a good five feet away, propped in a corner of the kitchen, and way too far for me to reach and remain protected. Straining my leg--keeping as much as myself covered as I could, just in case--I kicked at the broom once and missed. On my second attempt, I slid a little closer and got my prize. 

Broom in hand, I peered over the top of the table and gave my attacker a firm poke with the handle of the broom. I waited for a few seconds and when nothing happened, I moved on to my tasks: pushing the knife out of his hand, from a safe distance behind the table, and then attempting to finagle his knife holder away from him.

Unfortunately, this proved harder than I had expected. The knife holder didn’t budge, plus I accidentally smacked the half-dead man several times in my attempts to remove it. I quickly realized a broom handle was not the most dexterous tool. 

Frowning, I came to terms with the fact that I was going to have to use my hands.  _ Or _ I could call 911. How could I have forgotten about my phone? How  _ stupid _ could I get? This was certainly beyond the scope of a prank, and I figured it was time to alert the authorities. The paramedics would be able to deal with this way better than I could. 

I slid a hand into my pocket, reaching for my phone, and felt nothing but fabric...where was my phone? I felt my stomach drop. 

My head whipped around, and sure enough, right next to the body, was my phone. _ No no no no no no no no.  _ It must have fallen out when I tripped to avoid the knife. 

I stared at the short distance between my phone and the man, wondering why God had chosen to curse my day like this. There weren't any other options at this point. I was fucked. I was going to have to go over there and risk my life. 

I stood up and then immediately dropped down to the floor again. What the hell was I going to do? I could get maimed!  _ What if he  _ doesn’t _ miss this time? What if he’s faking it? But what if he’s not? What if he... _ the silence suddenly hit me. The raspy sound of his breathing had turned into white noise, and I hadn’t noticed the sound was there--until it stopped.

_ Not in my apartment, you ass! You do not have the  _ right _ to attack me in my own home, and then up and die on my fucking floor.  _ I don’t remember jumping over the table but before I knew it, I was on him. “Hey! HEY!” I smacked his shoulder and then held a finger under his nose to feel for breathing. I tilted his head back to see if it was blocked but...nothing. Scrabbling for my phone, I dialed 911, and then pulled him around onto his back to begin CPR. 

“911, what’s your emergency?” The operator said. 

“There’s a man on my floor not breathing,” I gasped out. 

The operator asked me a few questions, which I answered as best I could while trying to perform chest compressions. She instructed me to continue the CPR. 

This was my first time doing CPR on a real person. I had been certified, but this was a whole new ball game. The sound his ribs made when I broke them, a minute in, startled me and I almost started crying. I adjusted and kept going, pushing two inches deep into his chest. The operator encouraged me as the time dragged on, but I had only been going at it for three minutes and I was starting to get tired. Thirty compressions to two breaths and he still wasn’t responsive. 

The average response time of a 911 call was 10 minutes, so if I was lucky someone would be able to take over for me soon. If they weren’t here soon, I wouldn’t be able to hold steady for much longer. 

At four minutes I felt him take a deep breath. I found a pulse a few seconds later. Quickly remembering his stupid knives, I undid the clip holding them, and shoved them away from him. 

“He’s breathing again!” I yelled at my phone. His eyes opened a moment later. 

“Hey, hey? Are you okay? What’s your name?” I asked frantically. His eyes fluttered open and shut.

“It’s going to be okay; help is coming! Can you hear me?” I asked when he didn’t respond. I felt him try and grab me to sit up before his body gave out. His eyes opened again as the paramedics burst through my door and his head snapped in the direction of the noise. Just for a second I watched his clouded greyish eyes turn red.

_ What the hell have I gotten myself involved with? _ That eye thing must have just a trick of the light. I refused to accept anything else. I was in a full body sweat from everything that had happened. Thankfully, paramedics grabbed him and handled everything after. 

Everything felt like a blur. Next thing I knew, I was in the hospital. Police interviewed me while the cut on my head was being tended to, asking if I wanted to press charges. I declined.

The man, who was now being called John Doe, was unconscious in a hospital room having an ECG run. I wasn’t sure why I was sitting with him. He had an IV in with antibiotics and steroids being run. He had needed to be sedated, and intubated. He had stopped breathing a couple times since he had been in the room. 

He also looked much better. His one arm was bandaged, his heart rate and blood pressure stabilized. Multiple police officers had been called to try to determine his identity but ultimately there were no leads so far. Nothing could be done until he woke up, which the doctor said could take two or three days.

They had also cleaned him up. His skin was pale where it wasn’t covered by scratches or burns. His hair was a shiny black and looked to be at least as long as mine, reaching just past his shoulder blades or maybe even to his mid-back? I couldn’t tell. 

Ultimately, I debated staying longer but visiting hours were ending soon. I had already been sitting for a long time and the blood that had dried in my hair was starting to itch, along with the staples that had been put in. I needed to take a shower--a nice hot one--and forget this had ever happened. 

I glanced back at him and frowned. I’d come again after work tomorrow. He would likely be scared if he woke up alone. 

I was having a bad day. 


	2. The Fall Out of Failed Martyrdom

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Itachi finds himself in a precarious situation. Meanwhile Rihannon struggles to figure out what to do with the man that attempted to murder her. Beta by: RoseHarmony

* * *

I’d been coming to the hospital after work to do schoolwork and keep John company for the past five days. He still wasn’t up and it turned out he had needed heart surgery. So he was currently recovering from that on a ventilator. 

He slept like a corpse, and when the room got too quiet and the sound of machines started drowning out my thoughts, I’d tell John about my day and read to him. Anything to block out the sounds.

It was a Friday, five days after his surgery, when John had begun breathing on his own. The doctors unhooked one of the machines attached to him. This had two effects, the first being him looking more alive and the second was letting the room become just a little quieter, without the hissing, mechanical sound of the ventilator. 

I wondered about the chances of him waking up within the next couple of days versus the chances of him remaining comatose. Did he have a family that was missing him? Was he far away from his home? If no one claimed him and he died, where would he be buried? With not much to do besides think depressing thoughts and ponder my exciting lack of information, I settled down in my spot next to the bed and started my school work. 

“So John, are you ready to learn about company culture and its effect on employee retention?” 

I glanced toward him seeing the same visage I had for the past few days, his face slightly swollen, still healing but much better than when he was dying on my floor.

“Well, to start, there’s a bunch of variations of company cultures and some come with less job security and pressure then others,” I began reading from my school textbook.

I was two hours into the text and the essay assignment that came with the reading when his stupidly long eyelashes fluttered open. 

His head wobbled like he was trying to sit up to look at his surroundings and his non-bandaged hand reached to his throat. Clearly he was dazed.

“Hey,” I started, trying to sound soothing. “You’re in a hospital. I’m Rhiannon, and I found you in my apartment.” I put a hand on his shoulder and his head flopped toward me. 

“You were in a coma, you needed to have heart surgery, and your lungs gave out so you were on a ventilator for a while, but you're doing better. I’m going to get the doctor; they have some questions for you about medical history and a few other things.” 

I stood up and felt him grab me. The calluses on his hands surprised me; they always looked like they should be soft. The shape of his hands almost reminded me of a pianist’s hands. He tugged slightly on my arm. I listened to his silent demand and sat down, his grip relaxing quickly after that.

“Mmmm... ‘ere em I?” He hacked like he was trying to dislodge a lung after he finished speaking. His voice was raspy and slurred, a side effect of the breathing tube I guessed.

I told him where we were, but he just looked at me blankly, clearly not recognizing the name of the city. 

I stepped it up a notch. “California?” I tried. His brows furrowed and he dropped my hand.

“Do you know where the United States is? America? You know America, right?” I was slightly desperate at this point. He  _ had _ to know about the US...right? 

Again he avoided my incredulous gaze, looking away, his brows furrowed. If he didn’t know about America, he was clearly completely out of touch with what was going on in the world. Or it was possible he had amnesia? Looking at him intensely, I couldn’t help comparing him to the character...I felt stupid for considering it, even for a second...it was a fleeting thought. But I couldn’t stop thinking about that moment before the ambulance took him….back when his eyes flashed red.

“Do you...Are you…” My nose crinkled as I tried to get the question out. How could I phrase this, without sounding like a madwoman? “Before I get the doctor, where are you from?” This was uncharacteristically impulsive and illogical of me. It was so much more likely that he was just suffering from amnesia. But I had to know, just to kill that thought, the completely ludicrous idea that this man might be  _ Itachi Uchiha _ .

I watched him closely, waiting for him to say  _ anything _ except for  _ that place _ . It was difficult to get a read on him, but I could feel the stress radiating. I sighed.  _ Of course this isn’t going to be easy. God, this was going to be embarrassing.  _

“It’s fine if you don’t want to tell me. But, if you are where I think you may be from--” and I still couldn’t believe that I was even entertaining this thought “--If you’re from the place where your will burns... We should talk before the detectives come.”  _ Why did I go with that one? _ A bunch of Naruto mumbo jumbo. I selfishly hoped it was amnesia, just so he’d have a chance to forget about this. If this wasn’t who I thought it might—might be, I just sounded like a crazy person. 

Pushing past my embarrassment, I stood up again. I had been acting silly. What this man needed was a doctor. “I’ll be back in a second. Just sit tight and the doctor will explain everything.” I could see his fraying nerves, as well as fatigue, edging him closer to sleep. After the doctors came to run a few tests, he ended up sleeping away most of the day.

The next day, I was sitting outside the room while the doctor spoke with John. It took about an hour before I was allowed in again. He was lying back when I came in and he waited until I was sitting down in my spot to actually speak.

“What do you know of the village hidden in the leaves?” He asked. His voice was steady, a baritone, and the only singal of stress was the flicker of red in his eyes. Ah, we hadn’t gotten much of a chance to talk yesterday so I had expected this much at least. I didn’t think he could see, as his eyes were not focused on me--looking back, I realized he hadn’t looked straight at me yesterday as well--and his eyes had a thick fog covering them. 

It took me a moment to even realize what he had said. 

_ “Huh?”  _ I spoke, oh so intelligently. “I’m sorry, could you repeat that? I must have misheard you.” 

“What do you know of the village hidden in the leaves?” He repeated.

_ Wow, this is actually happening.The village in the leaves _ . He really said that. “Well, I don’t know much.” I was nervous because this was crazy and I shouldn’t be answering. What I should do was tell the doctors he was delusional and probably had a brain injury. I continued on, unable to stop my nervous ramble at this point. “I know it’s covered in trees, I know the leader is called the Hokage and so far the village has had seven, and I know it’s where your family lives.” 

“Seven?” His eyebrows raised slightly and his tone shifted up slightly.

“Yes, Kakashi Hatake and then Naruto Uzumaki after that. Sasuke married his team mate and they have a daughter now. There’s a show about all this actually.” _ Wow, why did I say that?  _ I could hear myself, as the stress increased so did the speed of my words and my pitch. 

“About the Hidden Leaf?” 

“Well, the show is more about Naruto, but it’s one of the most popular Shonen jump series to date.” There was no way he knew what that was but I couldn't shut up. “So I’m really sorry for invading your privacy! I didn’t think you were real and obviously you are so I’m really sorry...again.” I  _ really _ needed to shut up now.

Alarm flashed over his face before I watched him quickly shut down emotionally. “So, you are aware of my intentions--to die by Sasuke’s hand.”  _ Oh god no. No, no, no, no. I must be having a schizophrenic episode. _

“Yes, you succeed in that particular endeavor in the story. Although, obviously not, since you’re here now--not that you didn’t give it your best shot again in my kitchen.” I jittered, trying to use humor to calm down. It wasn't working.

“I’m not supposed to be here,” he said under his breath, mostly talking to himself. 

If he is actually Itachi Uchiha, then he is very out of place. Oh God, what if they ask for identification? He doesn’t have medical insurance! What if they try to deport him? Where would he even go? What about when he recovered enough to be sent home? I felt myself spiraling deeper and deeper into anxiety. “No, I don’t think so, but hey —not to change subjects, but can they fix your eyes?” If his eyes got fixed, he wouldn't be so helpless.  _ Not that he was helpless now, _ I thought, remembering the near misses of our confrontation, which were only misses because he had been half-dead.

He blinked, face tightening, then turned slightly away from me. “The use of the mangekyo sharingan causes blindness. There is nothing to be done.”

“Did the doctors say anything?”

He frowned. “They said they’d have to perform some tests.” The word ‘tests’ was spoken like it was some sort of conspiracy he loathed to be involved with. 

“Trust me, the doctors want nothing with your magic eyes and I don’t either. But it will be necessary to get them fixed--if you  _ can _ get them fixed--so you can use them to forge the documents you’ll need. Or use them to defend yourself if anything happens or anyone else followed you here.” 

“You don’t need to be concerned. I apologize for the trouble I have caused already. I’ve had enough time to recover and I should be going,” he said, his hand already reaching toward his IV. 

“No!!” I yelped, covering the IV. He looked startled and his hand paused. ”Stop...please.” I grabbed his non-bandaged hand, causing a disgruntled look to cross his face. “Please, you don’t know where you are, you’re sick, and you’re still recovering from surgery. Just stay here and let yourself get better.” 

“I assure you,” he insisted, in a very pleasant and reasonable tone that was contrasted by the amount of bandaging on him. “I’m sufficiently recovered.” 

“You are not!” I hissed. “You literally just woke up from a coma and had heart surgery. Plus, you’re blind.” 

“I’ve handled worse injuries on my own.”

“I highly doubt that. Just please stay in the hospital, and let them run the tests. What if they can fix your eyes?” I tried to cajole him. 

“That’s unlikely,” he outright dismissed.

“But what if they can?” 

He sighed deeply, leaning back further into the pillows of the bed.

“It’s unlikely, but I will ask some questions about these tests.” 

“Great.” I felt my body relax, letting out a breath I hadn't realized had gotten caught in my throat during the confrontation. I switched topics, hoping to distract from his terrible idea of leaving the hospital while he was still so clearly in need of their assistance. “Do you want to hear more about organizational cultures while you do your spirometry test?” 

He hummed in what I assumed was the equivalent of ’do as you please’ and reached for the spirometer to do a first breath out.

“The first culture we’ll be looking at today is group culture. Group culture has the characteristics of—ah, you’re still in the red section— social support, teamwork, and--“ 

I continued on running through my assignment occasionally interrupting myself to note how high Itachi managed to get on the lung strength measurement device (spirometer). He would occasionally speak up when I ran out of breath from reading, nothing more than a few words or an occasional question, but it was nice to have actual conversation. Especially after a few days of talking to the stale air in the room. 

Itachi started getting really worn out around nine: eyes closed, slow breathing, the whole shebang. I had lost track of time and hadn’t been intending to stay this late. I didn’t want to wear him out too much. He spent most of the day taking naps, but that was only to be expected with recovery.

“I should get going,” I announced and shut my book. He opened his eyes, startled, I think. It was hard to tell with him. I had been reading out loud, mostly so he could have some entertainment that wasn’t the TV.

“Do you have someone who’s going to walk you home?” He asked.  _ Ah. _ This was my first time leaving when he was awake; normally he’d be asleep. He also clearly looked like he expected that answer to be yes.

“Ah no, I drove, but the car isn’t too far from the building so I’m sure it will be fine.” 

“Drove the car?” He looked confused. 

“Oh. Uh, it’s like a carriage but faster and there aren’t horses! It’s also safer and we don’t really have bandits along the road either--really, it’s much safer.” 

He looked unconvinced, which I couldn’t really blame him for thinking. Cars scared me too.

“I’ll come visit after work tomorrow. Probably some time between five and six,” I told him.

“What is it you do for work?” 

“Oh I’m a human relations department intern! I make job descriptions, go to career fairs, maintain employee records. It’s not super exciting, but I really like it.” I smiled and put my books and laptop in my bag.

“You’re a civilian.” He didn't sound surprised; it was more like a declaration of a fact he had already known. Not that my brilliant display of combat when we just met contradicted the civilian image.

“We don’t really have, um...shinobi.” It felt silly saying it, like I was playing pretend when I was thirteen. “There are military careers but only 0.5% of the population are in it. But we also don’t have a stratocracy. So military and civilian life is fairly separate here.” 

“Hm.”

“Kids are required to stay in school through eighteen usually, and after they’re done, they have the option to join the military, the work force, or head into higher education.” 

He relaxed leaning further back onto the pillows as if deep in thought or just tired; I couldn't tell. 

“But I’ll tell you more about the US tomorrow. If you want; there’s no pressure.” I moved the TV remote to the stand beside his bed. “The remote is here,” I informed him, taking his hand and showing him. “And I hope you sleep well.” I waved and it occurred to me he couldn’t see. I felt a familiar heat creeping up my neck to my cheeks. 

“Have a safe journey home.” 

“I will, and I hope you get better soon!”

It had been about a week since Itachi woke up. He was doing slightly better. Most of his time was taken up by sleeping. He had more energy and was mostly ready for the surgery on his eyes, if he wanted it. We had been talking over the pros and cons at least once a day. He was protective of his eyes, for obvious reasons. I still think he didn’t believe anyone would be able to fix them. But at least a couple of days ago he had allowed some tests to be run. 

It was the detectives, ironically, that helped with convincing him of how different our societies were too. I don’t think they were what he was expecting. He had a mass amount of knowledge about the police of his world, and I think he found this country's police force less...effective.

It was also scary how quickly Itachi noticed details. I was astounded at how much he could hear from inside his room, or what he could ascertain from just from my voice or the way I was interacting with him. Like when he asked me what was wrong, voice flat and eyes darting around the room despite his lack of sight, after about ten minutes of what I thought was perfectly normal conversation. I had been stressed after getting interviewed by the detectives yet again. They had been getting more aggressive, probably tired of running into dead ends with Itachi’s case. He stayed awake longer that day, randomly muting the TV for a few seconds at a time, and keeping the volume low after he had manipulated me into telling him what was wrong. This was clearly paranoid behavior.

Three days later, my internship had me at a college fair. The first indication that we might have to end talks early was a few drops of water falling from the sky. More rain followed, landing on my glasses and making seeing things difficult. It was just heavy enough to make me start to move a little faster as I began packing up. 

The traffic was going to be bad today.  _ Californians don't know how to drive in the rain. _ I sighed; I was already running late, but packing up the company booth was normally a quick affair. I might be able to make it back to the apartment before it got to a stand still on the highway. 

Itachi would have to wait a little while. My clothes were starting to let the water soak through to my skin as the drizzle increased in intensity. I hurried to get the signs tucked away into the car along with the table. 

“See you tomorrow!” I waved as my co-worker pulled out then shut my trunk. It took about forty minutes to get home and another hour to shower, dry my hair, and change. I scrunched up my nose; it wasn’t supposed to take that long to get through all this. Purse in hand, I was almost out the door when I passed my bookshelf. It might not be a bad idea to grab a few new books--nothing to do with war or stuff like that but just something moderately pleasant to read to him, as well as a chess board. 

It was about eight by the time I made it up to his room. It was a struggle to open the door, since I was carrying too much, as usual. 

“Hey, sorry I’m late—“ I shoved the door further open with a knee as the chess board slipped. I barely prevented the crash of everything I was carrying onto the floor with some quick maneuvering and using my legs to pin things to the wall. When I looked up after hearing a slight hum, I noticed one of his eyes was covered by a clear plastic eye patch with holes.

“Oh! You got the eye surgery?“ I asked, excited and relieved. 

“I did,” he said, already moving to get up and ignoring my protests.

“No! No, I can get it! You should be resting. Have you got a diagnosis yet?!” I spoke quickly, trying to maneuver the stuff so I could get a hold of it again but it was too late. He was already grabbing the board game and books I had pinned to the wall.

“Cataracts and chronic bronchitis.” He hesitated but then added, “The doctors mentioned releasing me soon. To recover at home.” He stacked the items into a neat pile in my hands.

“Thanks... You know, you should be resting…” I took a moment to deliberate and then decided, “Also don’t worry about it; if you want, you could just stay with me.”

“I wouldn’t want to impose,” he said. I was surprised he actually meant it. I ushered him back to bed.

“I’m sure you won’t, and while I’m sure you're capable of camping on your own, I don’t think that would be wise. At least while you’re recovering.” I rushed through the words, feeling slightly awkward. “So are you going to get the other eye done?” 

“I’m considering it.” 

I smiled. I assumed he wanted to see how this eye healed before committing. “How’s this one doing?”

“Better.”

“Good! Have you played chess before?” I held up the chess board.

“I have not.”

“Oh! It’s like shogi but different. Actually, let me look it up! I’ll explain the differences and...well, it might actually be easier to just explain the rules of chess to you.” 

“That would be more effective.” He sounded tired, so I set the chess board out of the way on the floor. 

“We can always play later, if you need to rest.”

“It would be a waste not to play after you thought to bring it up here.” He glanced at the door, knowing full well the implications of that. I flushed, remembering my clumsiness, and cursed him in my head. 

It didn’t take long for him to understand the game, and the rules. He slaughtered me in chess--not just once, but five times. The sixth time, I think he felt bad because I caught him trying to go easy on me. I put away chess after about eight rounds. He was actually smiling, not that he hadn’t before but it had been a while since he held it for so long. 

“Well, congratulations on your eighth win,” I said, slightly irritated at my losses but glad he was having fun.

“You improved some after the sixth round,” he offered, like some sort of consolation prize.

“Yeah, yeah, okay there, thanks for the help.” I rolled my eyes. I’d bring Uno next, where I at least stood a slight chance of winning—if he didn’t cheat. But I wanted to save that for after he got glasses. 

“So besides thrashing me in chess, anything else you want to do? I brought some books over that I could read if you want.”

“Don’t you have school work?”

“I got done a little early, so no big deal.” 

“Hm.” Ah, the grunt of mild disapproval; this was an effective manipulator when paired with never ending silence. 

I grabbed one of the more clearly fiction books I had with me and started reading that, not that he was listening. He was too busy pretending to casually look around the room, and randomly turning down the volume of the TV. This would be funny if I didn’t know what he was doing. I stopped reading and shut the book. 

“When are they releasing you?” I asked him.

“Three days.”

“Okay, that’s good. I’ll get you some clothes before then.” He was probably a medium, maybe a large? Pants would be more difficult. Maybe I could get him some traditional clothes…that would probably be expensive though.

“Please don’t spend too much time on me.”

“Oh, I won’t, don’t worry” 

“I can just wear the clothing I had,” he said, looking at his bag of clothes, as if the blood and hole covered pieces of fabric were actually viable. Not to mention the fact that they wouldn’t look normal at all in today’s society.

“Nah, no, no, I’ll just get you some new ones. It will be fine,” I said breezily. He looked uncomfortable but frankly I didn’t give a fuck. He would get over this eventually. 

He sighed heavily. When he had tried that before he’d wheeze and cough; now he just wheezed slightly. 

“Look at that, you’ve already improved so much.” I grinned at him, and he sent a mildly irritated look in my direction. I muffled a giggle. “Sorry, sorry.” 

He closed his eyes, ready for another nap. He was improving, but he was still really sick. I started thinking about the long list of things I needed to do in order to get ready for a roommate.


	3. Attempted Hospitality

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Itachi tries to be the best guest and Rhiannon just wants him to sleep in the bed.

Shopping for Itachi wasn’t easy, I was at thrift store number three and currently on a mission to try and find a male style yutaka. So far I had managed to find some looser sweatpants, t-shirts that were a solid dark color, and a couple pieces of some formal wear (like a button down and some slacks) at the other stores. I also had grabbed some shorts, tank tops, a jacket, and some flannel pj pants. I think he liked navy blue and grey so I had been mostly shopping for those colors, as well as some red and black. I don’t know why I assumed red and black though, probably association. 

Shoes were also not fun to shop for as I had no idea what shoe size he was. I didn't want to waste money so Itachi got a nice set of flip flops I found, I was also hoping the lack of shoes would discourage him from going out when he was supposed to be recovering. Of course, he still had his other shoes but those were looking fairly gross and worn out from what I had seen. 

He had let me bring his old clothes home so I could wash them once the police had given them back. His armor was weird too, it resembled kusari but was structured differently then the pictures I found on Wikipedia. At one point I had tried to sew up the holes in his clothes but then I discovered that the shirt was silk. So, after that discovery I promptly gave up on that idea because silk is a pain in the ass to work with . He would probably become even more convinced that I was on some kind of a honey pot mission if I did that. Nah I’d just get him some Japanese clothing instead, I had foolishly thought. This dumb-ass thought is why I was currently combing stores trying to find a male styled yutaka.

I was starting to get frustrated, and looking through a section that looked like it was filled with bathrobes when I found it. A navy yutaka, with a white obi, and even more exciting, looking around further I found a white and navy haori with some cranes on it as decoration. This was perfect, not too tacky, and it was shoved between two other yutaka I would not be buying.

This was my last stop, my actual last shop, I had everything I needed for him. I had stopped by my parents house to get a chest I had used in college for his clothes. I had also finally taken a well needed trip to Costco, for both underwear for him and some extra food, toilet paper, and a few other things that needed restocking. Costco also was good for getting him a phone. Adding him to my plan was more money than I expected. My budget for the month was a little thrashed after all this spending. It was fine though, most of these were one time purchases, I’d recover the money in three months. But I wasn't about to leave him alone at my house without a way to call. I mean what if he had an episode and his inhaler was out? I didn’t have a landline so the only way he was going to be able to call 911 was via cellphone. So a cellphone he got.

I finished the drive to my house and put the clothes away except for a pair of sweats, underwear, and the flip flops.Which I put in a bag to bring over for him to change into. I had skipped visiting yesterday to straighten the apartment up and it didn’t look half bad. The only problem was I only had one bed. 

My plan was that he was going to be using my bed. I knew there was going to be an argument. I was going to take my couch. I knew there would be issues for the fact that I was hosting him, and this man was polite, if nothing else. I didn’t mind sleeping on it, it wasn’t a bad couch. But it also wasn’t a place for someone that was sick to be recovering.

I went to the bathroom and pulled out the lavender towel that was the other half of the set I bought and set it down next to mine. He was going to have to settle for using my shampoo and soap for now. I moved my medication to the side to make room for his medication and added the toothbrush I had brought for him to the cup I had in my bathroom.

It was that image of the two toothbrushes sitting next to each other that made me deeply uncomfortable. I hadn’t had a roommate like this before. I glanced at my bedroom again, and sighed, I really wasn’t looking forward to that argument. Checking over the house one last time before grabbing the bag and driving back to the hospital to pick him up. 

The drive wasn’t too bad, and Itachi was still in his hospital gown. His arm was doing better; he still had some scabs but it was mostly bruising left at this point. His hair was tied back in a purple scrunchie I had given him a couple weeks ago when it looked like he was irritated with it being loose. The swelling in his face was also completely down.

“Hey! Are you excited to be getting out of here?” He hummed and I passed him the bag of clothing. 

“Here, it’s not what you’re used to but I hope it’s okay.” 

“Thank you.” He left to change in the bathroom and when he came out he looked way too attractive for just sweatpants and a t-shirt, not to mention the fresh out of the hospital aspect. 

“Are you comfortable?” He nodded and sat back down on the bed. 

“So do you know what radios are?”

He nodded gravely.

“So I got you something like that but there isn’t a range to it, and you can do more with it,”

“Ah”

“ There’s a calculator so you can do math, and music, and a health app and a bunch of other stuff.” 

“Is this… all you can do with this radio?” He had a confused look on his face, as if expecting something more.

“Well there are some games! Like chess or I have a game where you can collect moths, help them grow, and discover new species.” 

“Oh.” He looked unimpressed. 

“It's pretty fun. You can learn a lot,” I sat next to him and started explaining how to use it. He picked it up pretty quick, like everything I introduced to him. I downloaded some games on his phone that he looked interested in. He was still playing with it when we got the discharge papers back. He set up his appointment for next week to make sure the recovery was going okay and then we got going. 

Itachi did not like the car. He was tense, not that I would have noticed if I hadn’t spent three weeks with him. It was subtle, his face focused, body relaxed like he was ready to move into action any second. 

“Is your seatbelt on?”

“Hm?”

“Seat belt. To your right, pull it across your body, and there’s a buckle put it into the red thing.” I waited to hear the click and then turned on some music to try and calm him down. 

“We’re about 40 minutes from my place. Let me know if you want me to pull over for a break.” He nodded and I did my best to drive smoothly and avoid any cars driving too quickly. I heard him hiss at one point when a car cut me off and I had to brake hard to avoid collision. 

When I parked, it was the smoothest I’ve seen anyone essentially run out of a car. I locked the car up and we walked over to my apartment. 

He took a minute to walk around checking the doors and windows pretending to look at decorations. 

“The bedroom is over here, I put your stuff in it, here’s the key for the trunk I put your clothes in it along with your other stuff.”

“The couch will be sufficient,” he said catching on to what I was planning. “I don’t want to impose.” 

“It’s fine you’re sick and recovering please just take the bed.” 

“ I won’t take your bed from you, this is your home.”

“You aren’t taking, I'm giving, you need a place to recover, the bedroom is dark, and if you sleep there I won’t have to worry about waking you up when I get ready for work.” I folded my arms. 

“I don’t want to take your bed from you.”

“Fine then if it’s that much of an issue we can share.” He blinked then nodded. Ah fuck I didn’t expect that. I made that option that wasn’t supposed to be chosen, like when you give kids an option between an activity they hate and one they don’t mind. He was trying to call my bluff, that little shit. 

“Great.” I smiled moving on from the matter, “You want to watch Boruto while I heat up dinner?” I had prepared food over the past couple days and this afternoon because I figured he’d want to help out. 

“Do you need help?” He spoke right on cue, and moved away from the window he was looking at.

“Nah it’s ok, just sit down.”

I turned on the English dub version of Boruto and let Itachi get distracted by his family. While that was happening, I got started on dinner. I grabbed fish I had been marinating in miso and a couple other things, and put it in a skillet to cook. Then I reheated the stir fried vegetables I had prepared earlier this morning. Rice was in the rice cooker and still hot, so I didn’t really have anything else to worry about. I didn’t want to pick something for dinner that would be too unfamiliar for him. So this was a cheap thing that was easy to make and fit that description. 

Ah. I took a moment to stare out into space. He was probably totally convinced I was trying to seduce him at this point. I shook my head and resumed cooking. Ten minutes later and I had dinner ready. I brought it out to him so we could eat while he watched Boruto. Wow I forgot how much I disliked this show and it’s protagonist who whined. 

Itachi, however, was enamored. I’d never seen him that focused. He was smiling as he watched his niece run around his old home. It was a little hard to watch him, just cause I felt like I was invading something private. 

I finished eating before he did and stood up to give him some space and to do the dishes. As soon as he realized what I was doing, he grabbed my elbow and stopped me. 

“I will do the dishes,” it was comical how seriously he said it. 

“It’s ok I can-“ His stared at me and his hand stayed on my elbow and I sighed and sat down. 

“Sure, if you insist.” I huffed. And sure enough when he finished, he took my plate and did the dishes. 

“I’m going to shower,” My next attempt to give him some space. I also made sure to grab my pjs before I went in, something I had gotten a little out of the habit of doing after living alone. 

The shower was nice and I ended up taking another forty minutes to blow dry my hair. Just in case he was serious about this sleeping together thing. 

Boruto was still on, not a big surprise but still. Whatever made him feel better I guess… he glanced back at me, turning his head a little further then normal cause I was on his bad side. 

“How’s Boruto?” 

“Good.”

“That’s good.” I settled in on the couch and covered a yawn. 

“Blanket?” I offered and he accepted pulling the blanket over his legs as well. 

“Are you sure you don’t want to just take the bed?” 

“I am certain. If it is more convenient, I will take the couch.” 

“Ug. No.” This ass, “you need the bed, you’re still sick, what time is it?”

“Eight thirty.” Wow what the hell, I was super tired. 

“Ok, cool” I leaned against the couch and let Boruto play while I scrolled through my phone. Itachi got up around nine to shower himself. So I paused the tv and waited for him to get out. 

He changed into another shirt and flannel pants, then circled around the apparent again and I heard him check the lock on the door, repeatedly. That needed to stop.

“Do you want dessert? I bought Dango.” He stopped messing with the door. 

“I would appreciate some if it is alright.” He moved over to the window and picked up the stick I kept in the track to prevent opening. I got up and walked over to the cabinet taking the packaged dango out. 

“Yeah sure. Let me just grab them.”

“Is there a reason there's nothing on the upper shelves?” He said behind me effectively scaring the hell out of me, as he had not been there five seconds ago. 

“Jesus! Please make more noise when you walk.” I swear to god I could hear the smirk on his face. He took the dango out of my hands and opened it leaving two of the sticks for me. 

“Ah you can have the other one. I only want one.” He blinked and I was reminded of an old cat I once knew who had the same look. One eye clouded, one clear, same slight tilt of the head and split second widening of the eye before relaxing. 

“No, just one is fine.”

“Are you sure? I don’t mind” 

“Yes. I am fine.” I ate the dango stick as Boruto blared on, something about weird ghosts. We were on episode nine, they weren’t even Genin yet. I passed Itachi the dango stick when Sarada was on the screen and he took it without thinking. He bit into it, then glanced over at me accusingly. I yawned and avoided looking at him. 

Eleven thirty hit and we were both tired. I was starting to fall asleep sitting up and Itachi was starting to slump. I called it and turned the TV off. 

“We can just brush at the same time.” I mumbled and rubbed my eye under my glasses. Itachi nodded and we both stood in the bathroom brushing our teeth. His hair was loose and slightly messy from being pressed against the couch. I didn’t look much better. My auburn waves had frizz everywhere (because of the blow dryer) along with odd ends poking out in places they shouldn’t be. I’d probably have to shove it in a bun tomorrow. 

After brushing my teeth, I went to the bedroom and Itachi did another sweep of the house. He clearly didn’t like the security of my apartment. I didn’t think it was necessary but I also didn’t stop him. As long as it wasn’t hurting anyone he could check stuff as much as he wanted. 

I waited a few minutes, suspicious. Then got up, sure e-fucking-nough, Itachi was on the couch. “Asleep”. 

“The hell are you doing? We talked about this. There was a compromise.” He didn’t respond, like a liar. I contemplated getting water and putting ice in it and dumping it on his head. Glaring down I didn’t say a word, just threw a blanket on the ground and a pillow where I guesstimated his head would land when I pushed him off. Next I slipped in behind the couch cushions that lined the top of the couch to use my body to push then drag him into the bed. 

I squawked when his hands wrapped around my wrists then moved to pin them behind my back before I could work a way out of the hold. One hand kept hold of my wrists and the other pulled the couch cushion out from between us and put it back where it belonged. 

He then pulled my wrists further up my back, almost between my shoulder blades, and pushed me against the couch using his weight to keep me restrained. It hurt but I was used to this kind of pain from growing up in martial arts. My shoulders were still flexible enough that I had the ability to move some. I tried pulling my wrists down, no luck, but pain of resisting was vaguely nostalgic. 

I lifted up my leg to push him off with my foot but he quickly maneuvered between my legs so I couldn’t knee him. I frowned, I knew I couldn’t keep up with him even if I was actively training. But this made me wish I had more time for martial arts. Laying there against the couch pinned, I hated him, just for a moment .

“Can’t you just sleep in the bed?” I pleaded, I was tired, I didn’t want to play ‘who will fall asleep first’. I knew if he thought he’d lose that game he’d just smack my coratid and be done with it. 

“Please?” I tried again only to be ignored. I struggled again briefly then gasped. 

“Owwww” my eyes watered. I think I almost dislocated my arm. 

“Itachi, you whore, let me go.” 

“My apologies, but this is for the best.”

“That wasn’t our compromise!” 

“Hn” this bastard, I had no words. I wiggled and yelped again. Itachi apparently decided that me dislocating my arm was an actual risk because he pulled me so I was flush against his chest. And then, to top it off, rolled me onto my back, hovered slightly above me, then fucking murmured right next to my ear. 

“Concede,” 

“F-fuck off pink eye, you need rest-- uninterrupted rest-- I’m not taking a bed from a sick person, ” I stuttered, he knew what he was doing, he’s not stupid. This was just a tactic to throw me off. 

“Pink eye?” He questioned with just enough haughtiness to make me blush.

“Not my finest insult but I meant the rest!” He laid down effectively weaponizing his body. This ass successfully deduced I wouldn’t struggle and risk hurting him. 

He switched up his grip. Grabbing my left elbow with his right hand and vise versa so he could maintain his grip more comfortably. My hands dropped and laid flat against the couch cushions forearms now looking like an equal sign. It was more comfortable then the other position but I still could feel my arms beginning to numb.I tried to wiggle my hips to get room to unfold my arms until I remembered our crotches were essentially pressed against each other and my legs were spread with his between them.

I felt like crying. Never in my life have I been so frustrated with a man. I just wanted him to have a nice bed. Why couldn’t he just agree? 

“My legs are cold.” I complained, half a tactic to get him to move.

“Then would you like to go to bed?” I all but hissed at him. 

“Would you like to be an honest human?” I retorted. 

“I would not want to abuse your offer to house me.” His tone was dead pan. I was about to scream when I felt his breath on my neck and cheek on my shoulder. He laid his head down. This fucker was playing dirty. 

“It-“ he blew on my neck. I choked, brain flat lined, and my words died in my mouth. I heard the small hmpf, and felt a part of myself shrivel up and die. 

He ended up waiting me out, it took thirty before he let my arms go. Pulling them out from underneath me and letting the blood stream back in. Oh that hurt like hell, my eyes actually watered and he briefly massaged my shoulders and biceps. As soon as I had feeling back he had my arms moved into a new position, pinned between our stomachs. Another thirty after that and I started drifting and fell asleep. 

I woke up the next day to my phone alarm in my bed at seven. Fucking covers pulled up, and curtains mostly shut. I sat up, this was a mistake as my shoulders screamed in agony when moved. Ignoring the pain, I got dressed, put some makeup on, and left the room after shutting the blinds and black out shade. 

Sure enough Itachi was “asleep” on the couch. Like I didn't know how he slept after all that time hospital. He probably woke up when my alarm went off. I made him a quick breakfast before I headed out to work with a coffee.

“Hey. My room is open, please go sleep in there now that I’m not using it. I’ll be back around six. Please don’t go train. Remember to take your medicine. My number is on my phone if you need me. Please don’t hesitate to text or call. Breakfast is in the fridge.” I sighed and made to walk out when I heard a gentle hum from him.

“Thank you.” 

“Welcome.” And off to work I went. 


	4. Civilian Assimilation 101

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Itachi struggles with civilian life and the concept of rest. While Rhiannon struggles to adjust to life with a paranoid roommate.

Work was fine. I spent a lot of the day stretching out my shoulders when between reports and emails. They were sore from being forced into a position they wouldn’t normally be in. This also reminded me of how much of an ass (donkey or otherwise)Itachi could be. 

I was worried about him, that he would be impatient with his healing and be training or doing anything super active while I was gone. What if he bled out? Or his heart stopped again. He seemed to be ignorant of how much rest he actually required, along with the idea that he didn’t have to be physically incapable of movement to require rest. I sighed and finished my drive home singing along to music to distract me from intrusive thoughts.

I locked my car and made my way over to unlock my door. That was odd, my door didn’t open. I tried again.It was unlocked but wouldn’t open. There was some rustling and clanking and then Itachi opened my door, Boruto played in the background. 

“Hey why was—what the hell?” 

There was a giant dinner set up with things that certainly were not in my fridge on my small dining room table. In addition there were more things. Sheers on my windows, I could see the glint of wire across them as well. My air conditioning unit that had been sitting on my floor for a few months waiting to be installed, was now in my living room kitchen window blowing in cool air. Not to mention my apartment was sparkling. Boruto yelled his catch phrase in the background as if to really secure the ridiculousness of this situation.

I turned to face the ass, who was clearly a self punishing masochist who refused to listen to doctors, and wanted a permanent injury. He was in his yutaka, looking all innocent, like he hadn’t just done a shit ton of work around my place. I blinked, looking at all this then back at him emploring him to explain himself before I lost it on him. 

“Your home wasn’t secure.” He said like that explained the food that he clearly stole, the ac unit being installed, or the house sparkling. 

“I fixed it though it’s still not optimal.” the ass spoke again not explaining shit, I blinked again. 

“Did you rest today?” I asked. He nodded.

“Itachi, did you rest today? Cause that’s important.” Anxiety slithered its way into my brain.

“I rested sufficiently.” Which meant he didn’t rest nearly enough. I could feel my brain melting from the amount of stupid contained in such a smart man. 

“Itachi you know if you don't rest you wont heal correctly.”

“I am aware.” 

“Then why… You know what, whatever, please just rest more tomorrow.”

There was nothing I could do, I sighed then mumbled reluctantly. “Thank you for the hard work.” He blinked clearly, proud and content with himself. I briefly considered sedating him when I’m gone then decided that would just make him worse. 

I sat down at the table across from him and looked over everything. Grilled fish, which I had been out of, rice, miso soup, which had ingredients (seaweed, and tofu) that I didn’t have, there were also several side dishes with ingredients I also didn't have in my house. 

“This looks good,” I spoke trying to ignore how much of this was stolen and silence my thoughts about where he had gotten this from. I was beyond hungry. I hadn’t had much time for anything beyond a second coffee today. I have to admit though, it was pretty tasty. 

The table was silent except for the sounds of eating and well, Boruto playing on in the background.There was a small thud from the balcony, I was almost done eating and I could see the switch flip in his brain. Itachi muted the Tv. I stopped chewing and stared at him. I didn’t think he was desperate enough to turn on the sharingan, as his eye was five days out of surgery and still recovering, but if he thought it was a big enough threat….

My doorbell rang, he stood up. I quickly stood up and motioned for him to sit down, swallowing my food. This turned out to be a mistake as I, upon taking a few steps, got lightheaded and dropped to the floor. Ah the curse of low blood pressure. I was fine, Itachi however..well to be blunt lost his mind. 

Knife out, he approached the door, I think he thought there was an attack about to occur. “Hello!” A one of the neighborhood teens answered the door. Itachi kept his knife hidden.

I felt like I was in a cartoon. I made to stand up but Itachi motioned for me to stay down and move to the side away. This was ridiculous. I stood up.

He was clearly guarding. With the door half opened, and blocking my view of the person. I stood on my tiptoes to see over his shoulder. He shoved me back behind him with his free hand like I couldn't take a 14 year old lima bean. 

“Hey uh, We accidentally threw our Frisbee onto your balcony. Could you get it for us?” 

Itachi looked confused and I tried to elbow my way in.

“Sure let me grab-“

“No, I will retrieve it; you need rest.” 

Oh dear god what did he do to my balcony he doesn’t want me touching. 

I stared wide eyed as he shut the front door then-Wait….did he just want me to not get up cause I fell? Like it wasn’t a regular thing I did but I have low blood pressure it happens sometimes. Or was it he thought the teen was an enemy combatant?

“Get to the bedroom.” An enemy combatant it was. He spoke as if a fight was about to break. 

“What no he lives here,” I tried to explain. 

He picked me up. Like over the shoulder picked me up. Picked me up like an uncooperative child. 

“Itachi Uchiha let me down!” I screeched as he deposited me in the bedroom and shut the door. I stared at the white bedroom door just shut in my face and then sat down on the bed seething. It took ten minutes for him to come back. Which was ridiculous cause it was literally finding a frisbee in 5 by 8 space and handing it to the kid. 

When he did open the door I’m not sure what I expected. But him having the same neutral expression on, like he hadn’t just had a paranoid melt down wasn’t it.

“Are you in need of medical attention?” He asked me as if he clearly hadn’t exhausted himself, and wasn’t leaning on the door frame for support. I took my anger and shoved it down, I’d deal with it later. 

“No I’m fine, why don't you sit down?” he moved to sit on my bed. 

“Why did you fall over?” 

“I have low blood pressure and got up too fast. I’m sorry if I scared you.” I tried to explain.

“Does this happen often?” He asked, sounding concerned, like I had just told him I had some terminal illness. The hypocrisy showing its ugly head like he hadn’t nearly died about a month ago, and wasn’t still recovering from it. The lack of concern for his own well being worried me.

“No. Not at all!” I was a little bewildered, today had been a lot. “But, would you mind staying in here with me for a bit? Just hang out for a bit?” he nodded very seriously. 

“Ok cool! Just let me get my switch.” 

“Pardon?” 

“My video game.” 

“Are you safe to walk that far?”

“It’s literally 20 feet away Itachi, I’ll be fine.” I dismissed. When I was out of the room I saw he hadn’t finished washing the dishes, so I decided to finished up. 

“You said you were getting the switch.” I jumped. 

“Damn it. Itachi we talked about this. Noise, make more of it, please.” 

“Why did you lie to me? You are ill and I will take care of this job. You have done enough today.” he dismissed, sounding a little disappointed. Like this was his contribution, and I was taking away his chance to help out. He didn’t want to be freeloading. He moved to take the dish that I was holding out of my hand and resume washing them for me.

I jerked the dish away from him and sprayed him with the faucet. 

“Back. I’m finishing it, go sit down.” 

“Ah.” He exhaled and began to walk away. 

“I’ll get your video game then.” He silently left. Ah shit I offended him. He walked over to the front door.

“Where are you going?” Panic rose. 

“I see I have intruded. My ap-“ 

“No stop talking.I’m sorry. I sprayed you with water cause you’re working too much. I want you to stay.” 

“ I seem to only cause you trouble and stress.” He continued to the door. I grabbed him by the back of his obi and pulled. 

“Knock it off.“

“ I cannot seem to benefit -“ I pulled him away from the door as he said dumb ass things.

“I don’t want to abuse your help, especially when you’re supposed to be resting. Please get your butt back in the bedroom.” It was only day one and he was starting this horseshit.

“You have been working all day and I have nothing to show for your return.” he said like he had some how failed me.

“Oh my god, no, just wow, your job is literally resting. That’s what I want to see when I get back is you sleeping or on the couch watching Boruto.” 

“At least let me finish the dishes for you then.”

“There’s literally one plate left.” 

“And you should relax. You look exhausted.” he said like a hypocrite. I held onto his obi as he did the dish and then made to walk into the other room. 

“Where are you going.” I blurted, he was going to die outside. Alone in the dark and of exposure. His eye would get infected and fall out. I felt like he was going to try and make a run for it any second so I grabbed a bit harder . 

“Please let go of my clothing. I am going to fetch something.” his voice was monotone and distant. Oh god he was leaving, he never said he wouldn’t. I stood there contemplating what to do for a couple minutes. Should I try and reason? Or just start crying? Would he care? 

He sighed and twisted my hand out of his obi. Unexpectedly he scooped me up and carried me to the couch. I sputtered

“I will be right back.” he spoke reassuringly as he left and came back with my switch.

“Thanks,” I glanced over at him. Nervously I started playing Breath of the Wild from the beginning. He looked at the game semi attentively. But I could tell Itachi was starting to fall asleep about an hour in. So I went to my room and called him in to kill a mystery bug and stay cause what if it came back.

Tonight. He would be sleeping in the bed. It took a little under an hour but sure enough he fell asleep. I had already pulled my work clothes out for the morning. All I needed to do was bring them out. I shut my blinds and pulled the covers over him. Quietly, I shut my door and made my way to the family room. I had time to shower and watch a show on my phone for a bit. I ended up falling asleep on the couch with headphones in. 

In the morning I woke up and got ready quickly. I made some breakfast for him, left out some tea he hadn’t tried and then got out of there. My goal was to avoid Itachi. Thankfully the black out shade seemed to be working, and he was in a seemingly pretty deep sleep. Getting out the door was also a little difficult as it squeaked. So I oiled the hinges to help them out and slipped out of the house. I hope the ass slept past noon.

* * *

Same issue with trying to open the door today, Itachi got it and surprise surprise he was in the process of making dinner again. 

“Hey, how was your day?” I took off my shoes and made my way inside back to the bedroom to pull off my work clothes and put on lounge stuff.

“It went well,” he said from the kitchens “I made you lunch for tomorrow.” I perked up.

“Oh! You did! Can I see?”

“You may.” I finished taking my make-up off and brushed my hair out. Then walked over to the kitchen. He looked like he was making some kind of stew but slid over to where the fridge was. He had used one of the old bento boxes I had in the cabinet. It was really nice, simple but built to be nutritious. He had but some onigiri, undressed salad, egg and chicken in it. 

“Thank you! This looks great.” I shut it and put it away. I normally would just grab something from a coffee shop for lunch so this was a huge upgrade. I would hug him, but he wasn’t a very touchy person. So I nudged his arm with mine. He smiled and served the stew over rice. 

“Did you take your medication?”

“I did,” 

“That's good! How’s your eye?”

“Improved.” 

“I’m glad. And you know you don’t have to do all this right? Like I’d much rather you sit and sleep all day.” 

“I do not want to take advantage of your hospitality,” I rolled my eyes and took a bite of dinner. Not bad could use some more seasoning but not bad. 

“Do you want a Moscow mule after this?”

“I do not know what that is.” 

“Oh, it’s an alcoholic beverage and it actually tastes good. You could always try some of mine and decide after, if you want,” 

“Mn,” he agreed

“Alright I’ll make them after dinner.” I figured a little alcohol would be fine, I tended to make my beverages on the weaker side. I decided on an orange moscow mule cause those tended to be a bit sweeter. 

We cleaned up and I got on the beverage making. I made a double batch and poured it into the glass so I wouldn’t have to make another if he or I wanted a second one.

I walked over to Itachi who was watching Boruto and gave him the drink. He took a sip and he nodded. I made another double batch for myself and sat down next to him. 

Boruto wasn’t bad when buzzed. Itachi was abnormally quiet and a little flushed but...oh my god his drink was fucking gone,its been less then five minuets and he downed two whole drinks.

“Hey buddy, you feel ok?”

“I don't understand why so much of the show is focused on Boruto, Sadara is clearly the superior main character.” he spoke out uncharacteristically. 

“Ahhh… well I don’t disagree, Boruto isn’t my favorite,” he nodded and there was silence for a period and I thought he had fallen asleep. This turned out to be wrong. As he questioned something Boruto did. I got up to put away the now two empty glasses a little out of it myself. This apparently upset him.

“ Why won't you let me be a good guest?” he said as if accusing me of stealing goods from his family store. 

“I’m sorry?” I responded very confused. I just wanted to put the glasses in the dishwasher. 

“I’m just trying to show you how grateful I am but you won't let me clean or or sleep on the couch.” He droned on. “How ? How could I take your bed?” He said like taking my bed was a crime worthy of being sent to hell if committed.

“Uh easily? Cause you're sick? And you need these things? Plus you’ve already done too much. You deserve a bed and I don’t want you to sleep on the couch. It’s cruel.”

“I’ve had worse conditions to stay in, I can handle myself.” He ignored me. I straddled him grabbing his face 

“I said don’ care . ‘Tachi please value yourself more. ‘ou ‘ave a second chance at life!”

“I don’t deserve-” he seemed to realize I was on his lap cause he slipped me off to the side. But I held on to his face, 

“Shhhhhhhhhhhh, listen, you’re important to me,” I watched his eyes widen slightly and rubbed his face, “now we watch tv.” I squished his cheeks and flopped to his left. God he was so pretty. 

“‘Tachi why are you so pretty?” He tilted his head.

“‘ou’re intoxicated,” he half mumbled like he wasn't.

“And you’re pretty.” I half slapped his cheek in an attempt to poke it. He jerked away startled and grabbed my hands moving them away from his face. 

I grabbed his hands back and pulled him up, he wobbled slightly and tried to pull away ineffectively.

“Let’s go to bed.” 

I got him most of the way there before he tripped me and tried to make his way to the couch. I grabbed his ankle and he fell over. After that I dragged him into the bedroom. He pulled me down and tried to get up. 

I pushed him into bed after I got up when he was steadying himself. He grabbed me as he fell and I got pulled in as well. I laughed a bit. 

“I won’t take your bed from you again.” He mumbled already trying to get up again. I pulled him down and wrapped my arms and legs around him. 

“Hey, hey how about instead of arguing about this every night we can just share, like we agreed to a while ago.” 

“No, I’m still taking a portion of your bed,” Oh god I can’t. I understand the self loathing and purposelessness, but I just can’t with all this. He already broke his way out of my grip. I grabbed his arm and pulled him back switching tactics.

“Can you just please stay?,”

“No.” 

Alright then. I got off the bed only to get dragged back on. There was a brief squabble.

“ ‘tachi offfffffff….” I whined.

“You will sleep here.” He declared as we still squabbled. Eventually we both just laid there with me on top of him holding his shoulders. The world spun. I had a bruised neck from where he had accidentally smacked me when I pulled his hair after he tried to get up. 

“I’m tired.” I mumbled, the spins were not fun.

“Hn.” He Grunted his eyes closed. A hand smacked my head and I flinched. I realized a few seconds later he was trying to pat my head. 

“Do you hate it here?” I whispered.

“I’m grateful you allow me to stay here.” He spake and I played with the ends of his hair entranced by the softness.

“But you don’t hate it?”

“I do not, it is ….different.... then what I’m accustomed to….I hope I’m adjusting well enough...” I laid down and slid to the right, between his mostly healed arm and his body.

“ ‘tachi can I stay here?” 

“Yes.” I hummed content and wrapped my arms around him.

“Can you breath?”

“Hm,” he commented and I noted he smelled like my body wash cedar and lavender.

“Niiiiiight.” I pressed my cheek against his chest.

“Good night.” He mumbled clearly more ready to sleep than me. Not that I really found out who fell asleep first, we were both too tired to wait the other out.


End file.
